Hilde | Kim Taehyung fanfiction ✓

arya

15

I reached for a donut, the sugary treat became distraction while I waited for Taehyung's response. "Hello? Are you still with me?" I prodded.

"Yes. Sorry to hear that," he mumbled, his smile faded as he stared at his hands in his lap.

"I'm this close to getting over it," I confessed, pinching my thumb and index finger together to emphasize the tiny distance. "This close," I repeated softly, more to myself than to him.

Silence settled in the room, broken only by the sound of my chewing. Glancing out of the window, I was greeted by the children playing joyfully, birds singing in harmony with their laughter.

Breaking the quiet, I turned to Taehyung once I finished my donut. "Your turn," I prompted, eager to hear his motivations.

He seemed momentarily lost in thought before gathering himself. "What? Oh, right," he responded, his tone slightly distracted. "It's a long story. Well, thank you for breakfast, but I have to go."

His attempt to leave was met with my firm grip on his hoodie. "Sit back down," I commanded, my voice leaving no room for argument.

Taehyung hesitated, clearly reluctant to comply. "Do I really have to?" he challenged, his tone defensive.

"Yes," I replied firmly, leaving no room for negotiation. "In..." I began, pausing to retrieve the ticket he had placed on the table. It was for a flight three days later. "In three days, we'll have to work together. We need to know each other, just a little bit," I emphasized, elongating the word 'little.' "Otherwise, how could I trust you if I'm the only one opening up?" I questioned, locking eyes with him. "Also, I told you why I'm after Novikov; now it's your turn. That's how it works."

"It's such a long story," he protested.

"I have until lunchtime, and it's barely eight in the morning," I countered.

With a resigned sigh, Taehyung sank back into his seat. "It's either I kill Novikov, or I die," he confessed, his gaze locking with mine for a moment.

"Are you going to elaborate, or...?" I prompted, frustrated. How could he drop such a bombshell and then leave me hanging?

"You didn't elaborate on your little anecdote," Taehyung countered matter-of-factly.

"Fine. My father knew Novikov. Novikov was a bad influence on my father and either convinced him or forced him to kill my mother and sister. Come on, your turn," I elaborated rolling my eyes, feeling exasperated. After a beat of quietude from him, I groaned, "You came into my house unannounced, ate four donuts, drank half a bottle of orange juice, and this is all I get in return?"

"Nope, you got a three-hundred-buck flight ticket for Ames. That's what you got in return," he quipped.

"Oh, just spill it already," I urged him impatiently.

"If I don't kill him, my employer will send someone to kill me," he finally admitted.

"That's what you were refusing to tell me?" I asked him a little disappointed.

"Yes, why, isn't this enough to disconcert anyone?" He responded in confusion.

"You're a criminal, I'm about to become one. You don't look like you had the happiest upbringing, and honestly, neither did I, which can explain the paths we're currently taking. Not much can shock me at this point," I confessed, trying to make him understand that I could handle whatever he had to say. "Is there more?"

"You won't let this go, will you?" he remarked, sounding resigned and almost regretful for prying.

"No, I will not. This is the closest thing to gossip I've ever had. Hit me," I encouraged him.

After a few moments of hesitation, Taehyung looked down at his lap, his thumbs fidgeting nervously. Then, he cleared his throat and began to speak. "My mother was sick, and I was willing to do everything to save her. So, I got into a bad business, and when I tried to leave, my employer threatened to send someone for me," he finally admitted.

We sat in silence for a while, letting his words sink in.

"Does it ever get easier?" I asked him, my voice barely above a whisper. "The hits I mean. You are an assassin, right?"

"If it ever got easier, do you think I would leave you to do my job?" Taehyung responded, indirectly confirming my suspicion: he was an assassin, one who was scared to assassinate. "It's been two years since I started doing this, and I feel like the more I do this, the worse it gets," he confessed, his posture slumping as he rested his elbows on his thighs and buried his head in his hands.

Looking at him in such a vulnerable position, my heart ached for some reason. It was a feeling all too familiar—the agony of trying to do something good only to fail miserably, haunted by the consequences even in waking moments.

"How is she? Your mother?" I asked, unable to bear the sight of his hunched figure.

"She's just like your family," he replied somberly.

"Dead?" I whispered.

"Dead," he confirmed.

A bitter smile touched our lips, and for a few moments, we were both lost in our thoughts. The silence was deafening. Talking about a traumatic event seemed easier than reliving it in my dreams. While the fact of my family's death was just that, a fact, it was the vivid, subjective experience of witnessing their deaths every now and then in my dreams that haunted me. I wondered if Taehyung felt the same way.

"But wait," Taehyung began raising his head to look at me, "you said that your father murdered your mom and sister."

"Correct, I'm glad you listened."

He rolled his eyes at my snarky comment, "So, this Edith lady..."

"Not my mom, she kind of adopted me. Any more questions?"

"Yes, shouldn't you be going after your father, too?" Taehyung asked; he probably had never heard of tact, I thought.

"I need to get to Novikov first. He probably knows where my father is. Trust, I'm going on a rampage. See? How hard can it be to share your treacherous past?" I asked sarcastically, but he ignored my question.

Taehyung gave me a sideways glance before changing subject a few minutes later, "Do you know what you will do afterwards?" he asked, leaning back in his chair with his head still lowered.

"Go to college, maybe? I don't know. First, I worry about Novikov and my father, then about myself," I replied, mirroring his posture and crossing my arms over my chest.

"Priorities," Taehyung said with a smile, finally looking up at me. "Well, thank you for the therapy session, but I better go now. I'll meet you at the airport," he said, rising from his chair and preparing to put his shoes on.

"Actually, one more thing before you go," I said, catching his attention. He paused, turning fully toward me, hands in his pockets, ready to listen. "I will need a ride there."

He lowered his head and chuckled in disbelief, "Unbelievable."

"Thanks a lot, Tae. I can call you Tae, right?" I taunted as he put his shoes on.

"You cannot call me Tae."

"Well, thank you for everything, Tae. See you in three days, Tae," I said, making sure to say this nickname slowly, stressing it, before pushing him out of the house and closing the door.